


everybody hates a tourist

by LadyRomanadvoratrelundar



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon-Typical Violence, Casual Leaning, F/M, Slight Cannon divergence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25812298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRomanadvoratrelundar/pseuds/LadyRomanadvoratrelundar
Summary: Nora and Hancock get off to a rough start.Based around the events of The Big Dig.
Relationships: John Hancock/Female Sole Survivor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	everybody hates a tourist

Nora was in shock. Something wasn’t right. She knew it. Mel knew it. The directions were all wrong. But Nora hadn’t expected this.  
“All this time. Why did you do this? Why would you lie to us?”  
“I knew no one in their right mind would help me rip off Hancock.” Bobbi replied “Everyone is so damn afraid of him or so damn in love with him. He thinks he is invincible. I wanted to show him he wasn’t.”  
Bobbi had surprised Nora again. Frustration replaced Nora’s feelings of betrayal. That tyrant could do whatever he damn well pleased, couldn’t he? He could gut a man right in front of a newcomer without a second thought. Nora knew men like that before the war. In school, they pushed other kids around because they thought it would impress girls. When they “grew up,” they had flashy, fast cars that made entirely too much noise.  
Even if Nora had never met the man, Hancock’s crony was proof enough of Bobbi’s words. Hancock’s arrogance was reflected in Fahrenheit. She even had Triggermen with her; brutal thugs who wouldn’t hesitate to murder entire families for a few caps.  
And how those people in Goodneighbor looked at him. Nora couldn’t roll her eyes hard enough. What did they see in that man?  
It wasn’t a hard choice.  
“You’re right, Bobbi,” Nora said quietly, then unceremoniously shoved Bobbi behind the nearest metal cabinet.  
Nora stepped behind a pillar. It only took a few bullets to make the Triggermen drop like flies when they rocketed past Nora and Bobbi.  
Fahrenheit was more of a challenge. Nora had to wait for her opportunity. The power armor took a few hits. Fahrenheit had to reload eventually and she wasn’t wearing a helmet. Nora hit her between the eyes. It wasn’t pretty. You never really get used to that kind of mess.  
The rest of the day moved past Nora in a haze. It wasn’t that different from any other job. Nora looted what she could use and trudged back home.  
Nora slept as much as she could that night. Fortunately, her exhaustion overcame her concerns. Bobbi wasn’t coming back. Hancock barely knew who Nora was. Nora wouldn’t have been identified. She couldn’t have been identified. Right?

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been two weeks. Nora couldn’t avoid Goodneighbor forever.  
Nora didn’t wear her vault suit this time. She wore a simple shirt and jeans. She considered leaving her dog at home, but opted to bring him with. It wasn’t unusual for a trader to travel with a dog. Secretly, Nora wasn’t sure if she could do it without him.  
Hancock was waiting for her, casually leaning against a wall.  
Of course the damn thug knew everything. Self righteous little shit.  
“How you doin’ killer?” he asked, “Tired from all that digging? You know, my strongroom is surprisingly empty now.”  
Nora mentally added “lack of subtlety” to Hancock’s growing list of faults.  
Nora never had a good poker face. She did her best to unclench her teeth and reply “I have no idea what you're talking about.”  
“Don’t play dumb with me. It’s unattractive. No one steals from me. But I gotta admit. You and Bobbi pulled off one hell of a job. Almost makes me wish I had done it myself.”  
What? Was he flattering her now? This was absurd.  
“Now if it was just the money, I’d rough you up, break a few bones, and we’d be square once you paid me back.”  
Or he’d have someone else do his dirty work for him.  
“But you killed Farenheit. That means blood for blood. Fortunately for you, I’m short on muscle, and Bobbi was the brains. You track her down, put a knife in her, and get back my, let’s say, 1000 caps, and we’ll pretend this was all a misunderstanding.”  
Nora knew her poker face had more than cracked by now. She blurted out “Are you nuts? There’s no way all that was worth 1000 caps.”  
“No, it wasn’t,” he held Nora’s gaze, unfazed by her vitriol, “but you blowing a hold in my storeroom and killing my bodyguard… you can bet that smooth little face of yours that made up the rest.”  
Nora was seething. She wanted to smack that little smirk off his face. She shook her head and said, “ You’re full of shit. How do you even know where she is?”  
“Bobbi’s smart, but not half as smart as she thinks she is. She’s been having all her new tidings of wealth shipped to a building in South Boston.” The smirk was getting worse. “What? You didn’t think I knew about her little ‘Southie Settlement?’”  
Hancock tossed Nora a balled up piece of paper. Nora caught it instinctively. It was a map with Bobbie’s exact location. The one she told Nora about.  
The most Nora could manage was, “I’ll consider it.”  
She took a few steps back and walked right out of Goodneighbor. Hancock called out something, but Nora’s ears were ringing too much to hear his bullshit. The dog eyed Hancock until they were both out of that shithole. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well, look who it is.” Bobbi said as a hesitant greeting when Norra arrived, “makes a ghoul a bit nervous, though. You showing up here unannounced.”  
“We both know why I’m here, Bobbi.” Nora replied. Nora reached into her bag. Bobbi flinched but made no move toward a weapon. Nora’s hand came back out with a bottle of scavenged pre-war vodka. “You’re leaving the Commonwealth, Bobbi. No arguments. And we’re sending you off properly.”  
Bobbi fished out a couple of glasses from the kitchen and Bobbi and Nora took seats on either side of a coffee table. Nora poured and they each had half a glass before either spoke again.  
“So Hancock hired you to track me down then?” Bobbi asked.  
Nora nodded and sighed. “I’m sure he thinks I’m willing to be his personal assassin because you bulshitted us. It’s not like he doesn’t have a point.”  
“You know I have my reasons. And I stand by them.”  
“And what if you were wrong, Bobbi? Maybe he is invincible.”  
“Now don’t you go and say that.” Bobbi said. Her eyes went soft and, for the first time since Nora arrived, Bobbi smiled. “You did the job and you didn’t back down, even when you knew who we were sticking it to. You did good, kid.”  
Nora shrugged. It was too soon to tell if her actions were the right ones. They felt that way, but there was doubt creeping around the back of her mind. She was at least certain about something: Bobbi didn’t deserve to die and Nora wasn’t Hancock’s personal assassin.  
Bobbi pursed her lips and continued “I appreciate you doing this the civilized way. I won’t forget it. Wherever the hell I end up....”  
Nora poured again. They drained their glasses, quietly contemplating their new roles in life. Nora left the bottle with Bobbi and headed straight back to Goodneighbor.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nora took a deep breath and pushed open the entrance to Hancock’s office. Hancock was leaning against the wall oozing casual. Nora wondered how often he practiced his casual leaning in a mirror.  
“Hey there, trouble,” the smirk was back. “You got something to say to me?”  
Nora breathed easier with a bit of vodka in her system. She managed to keep her voice even when she replied, “It’s done. And so are we.”  
“Oh, no, my friend. You and I got a lot more to discuss. Now. Let’s talk about my caps.”  
“Being your personal assassin isn’t enough for you, Mister Mayor? I’m not giving you a single fucking cap.” Nora replied. Maybe the vodka hadn’t been the best idea.  
Hancock’s stupid smirk broke into a genuine chuckle. It caught Nora off-guard. When Hancock saw Nora’s bewilderment, his chuckle became a laugh. Nora couldn’t make heads or tails of it.  
When he finally managed to calm himself down, he said, “Let’s talk about an arrangement.”  
“I’m listening.” was not the answer that Nora expected to give. But that’s the answer she gave.  
Hancock blinked. He seemed to be expecting more of an argument. He recovered quickly and pushed himself off of the wall. Nora took a step back, watching the hand closest to his knife.  
Hancock raised his hands to show Nora his palms. “Easy there, jumpy. Why don’t you take a seat?”  
Hancock walked to a cabinet and came back with two glasses and a bottle of vodka. He set them on the table between the two couches and poured. Did he know she had already indulged or was this just her luck?  
Nora perched on the edge of a couch in Hancock’s office like a wound up spring, gingerly holding her drink. Hancock sprawled on the other couch like a cat and drank generously from his glass. Through her steady stream of anxiety, Nora managed to wonder if Hancock practiced his Casual Sprawling after he finished Casual Leaning practice.  
Nora and Hancock drank in silence for a bit. After finishing his glass, Hancock sat up and reached for the bottle. He proffered it to Nora. Against her better judgement, Nora allowed Hancock to fill her glass again. Her head was swimming a bit. The tension was easing out of her much faster than she expected. She was feeling reassured by both the vodka and the knowledge that, if she were going to be killed, it probably would have happened already. Why bother wasting pre-war vodka on someone you were about to run through with a knife? The dog certainly didn’t seem concerned. Was he already asleep?  
Hancock started down at the vodka swirling in his glass, then finally broke the silence, “The thing with Bobbi. It had to be done.” Nora scoffed and Hancock looked up at her. His expression held no malice. Only contemplation. After a few seconds, he went on as though he hadn’t been interrupted, “Look at me. Look at this.” He gestured around at nothing in particular. “Have I turned into the man? Am I limiting people’s freedom to do what comes natural?”  
“That’s exactly what you’re doing.” Nora said evenly. She really could use a bit of tact.  
Hancock nodded and continued, “That's why I've decided. I'm coming with you--”  
“You’re not coming with me.” she interrupted.  
“Nora,” he said bracingly, “just hear me out.”  
Hancock had called her “killer,” “sister,” “trouble,” and “jumpy” before. This is the first time he called her by her name. It felt strange to hear it. Like he knew her. Feeling this vulnerable was painful. How much did he know about her? How far did his tendrils reach? What had he done to get his information?  
Nora didn’t know how to feel, so she fell back on a behavior that had served her well for more than two hundred years. She drank some more vodka.  
Hancock must have taken her silence as an invitation to continue. He leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. This wasn't another Casual Lean. It was intense. He said, “You have the right attitude. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around anybody who won’t put up with my shit. I knew it the first time I met you and I know it now. You see danger and you dive headfirst into it. You sit here in my office after ripping me off. You’re outnumbered, outgunned, and you’d still tell me to fuck off. I need to get out there and connect with the common man. You’re my ticket out.”  
Where had the rest of the vodka in Nora’s glass gone? She was going to hate herself if she survived until tomorrow morning. The fear and anxiety had mostly ebbed away. She was seriously considering this. Was this sudden amiability from the vodka? Or was it him? What the hell was in this vodka anyway?  
But the way he looked at her. Admiration? Something else?  
Either way, maybe he was right about something. Maybe she could teach him a fucking lesson. And what is it they say about keeping your enemies close? It makes the dream work? It always pays off? Nora hated platitudes.  
“I’ll meet you here in the morning.” she said, standing up very suddenly. Upon standing, she realized that the room was spinning more than it should be. Hancock put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. There was no mirth in the laugh. Just genuine amusement.  
As she and the dog walked out, she muttered “fucking tourist”. She wasn’t sure if he heard her, but she sure hoped he did.

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally my first fanfic. I had this headcannon that needed to get out of my brain. Please enjoy.  
> Also, I had the song "Common People" stuck in my head when I named this fic.


End file.
